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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134794">Trusting Her Instincts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majerus/pseuds/Majerus'>Majerus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:21:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majerus/pseuds/Majerus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Entering her fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermione is troubled by vivid dreams. They are actually a pleasant distraction, given the terrible problems that seem to always center on Harry.</p><p>Written for the Harmony For Essentials Gift Exchange, with thanks to Diana for Beta support.<br/>Gifted to digitalwitch18</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Harmony For Essentials Gift Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Trusting Her Instincts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=digitalwitch18">digitalwitch18</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set in an AU a few months into 5th year.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Hermione awoke with a harsh intake of breath. Her nostrils flared, taking in the familiar scents of her room, adding to the data collected by sharpened hearing and unnaturally large eyes that darted predatorily around the room for any sign of movement.</p><p class="western">She was alone... well, Parvati and Lavender were asleep in their beds, but there was no...</p><p class="western">‘<em>What? W</em><em>ho or w</em><em>hat is it that I f</em><em>led from</em><em> in that forest?’ </em> For that matter, she wondered where the beautiful, light-filled and airy tree-scape even was. She’d never been there, that much she knew, and yet it had haunted her dreams for months now, since before fifth term had begun.</p><p class="western">Wherever it was, she had dreamed of being chased around in her fox form, but she hadn’t been afraid. Far from it, she had been elated, excited to run, and yet just as earnestly looking forward to being caught. And she had no idea why let alone by who… or what.</p><p class="western">It was driving her mad, and yet she’d not trade those frustrating yet pleasant dreams for any of the nightmares resulting from her various ‘adventures’ from the prior four years.</p><p class="western">Neither Madam Pomfrey nor Professor McGonagall had any insights, other than to let them know should anything change. But it never did. Just the same dream, ‘Cinnamon’, her Animagus name for her fox, was as jubilant and playful in her dream as she was when she got the chance to stretch her legs for real.</p><p class="western">However, letting herself run free at school was all too rare normally, but even more difficult with Madam Umbridge all but in control and taking away “privileges” left and right. Like the “privilege” of going outside, which even as a Prefect, Hermione was denied.</p><p class="western">Even when she took a few moments after hours to configure the Room as a forest, (there had to be some perks to being the only 5th-year Prefect – Ron certainly didn’t do anything to merit the title) it was never quite the same as her dreams. But it did allow Cinnamon to stretch her legs and Hermione to release some stress.</p><p class="western">She briefly considered if she should finally share her form with Harry, and for that matter pondered why it just never seemed like the right time to do so.</p><p class="western">Just as she’d done for the last few months, Hermione set these thoughts aside and focused on her day to come as she gathered her shower supplies. There was a D.A. meeting tonight, so there was that to look forward to.</p><p class="western">
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="western">* * *</p><p class="western">“Excellent job, everyone!” Harry praised the gathered students enthusiastically. They stood a little taller, all of them soaking in the encouragement from their leader. “Keep practicing your Patronus when you can, and encourage those not in the D.A. to keep at theirs. Voldemort is certain to use Dementors in the future, let’s make sure we can take that weapon away from him!”</p><p class="western">It was a testament to Harry’s positive leadership that not one person voiced objection at the naming of the Dark Lord. While a few still flinched, every member of the D.A. recognized the truth of Tom Riddle’s deception. The power of fear was something that they could take away from him, and every one of them was determined to do so… with Harry’s bold example showing the way.</p><p class="western">Hermione watched as the students mill about, talking with friends from other Houses as they wait to leave in small, staggered groups to avoid detection by the Inquisitorial Squad.</p><p class="western">Ron stood sentry, using the Marauder’s Map to direct the groups to travel the safest routes on the way back to their common rooms.</p><p class="western">The bushy-haired witch is so incredibly proud of her best friend, and turns towards him with a bright smile to congratulate him on another excellent class, but is stopped short. Her smile drops and she quickly moves to a nearby bookshelf to avoid staring.</p><p class="western">“Harry, do you have a moment?” Cho Chang’s soft, earnest voice grates down Hermione’s spine.</p><p class="western">Grabbing a slender volume to keep her hands busy, the ‘bookworm’ takes no note that she is holding “Signs That You Have Met Your Magical Mate!” in her frustrated grip.</p><p class="western">The three of them are at the far end of the room, and no other noise interrupts them. Hermione can’t help but overhear, even if she isn’t watching... at least, not directly.</p><p class="western">“Sure Cho, what’s up?” Harry’s guileless response is upbeat, lacking the nervousness that he had usually spoken with when talking to the pretty witch for the last couple of years.</p><p class="western">Hermione frowns. ‘<em>When did Harry get past his shyness with Cho? Isn’t this the first time they’ve spoken this term? Is his confidence borne of recent familiarity? Are they dating? How ha</em><em>d</em><em> she missed this!?’ </em>Her mind churns through these questions in mere seconds, her hands clenching the ironically overlooked tome.</p><p class="western">Her eyes dart surreptitiously to the couple. The elegant yet athletic Chinese witch is leaning close to Harry... too close. Hermione can’t hear what she is saying, and her back is turned, so she shifts her sad brown eyes to watch Harry’s face.</p><p class="western">For a few seconds, Harry’s smile is that easy, gentle grin that he gets when he is talking about things that he enjoys. The smile that makes Hermione’s heart lurch. Cho is making him smile that smile...</p><p class="western">Hermione’s whole world narrows as the Ravenclaw leans into Harry’s space... her intent is clear, she is going to kiss him! Hermione would have been horrified to find that she is bending the spine of a book, but she isn’t aware of anything but the constricting ache in her heart. Just as she is about to avert her gaze to save herself the pain of actually watching them kiss, something amazing happens.</p><p class="western">Harry leaned away from Cho.</p><p class="western">The witch had obviously been leaning in for a kiss... and Harry avoided it.</p><p class="western">Hermione blinks. She blinks again. Nope, it was not her wishful imagination. Harry Potter had just taken a full step away from the now hurt and confused looking Cho Chang.</p><p class="western">She vaguely hears his voice, pitched low, and now clearly uncomfortable, “Sorry, but I like another witch.”</p><p class="western">The rejected girl clenches her fists at her sides and turns quickly on her heel.</p><p class="western">Her long black hair is still in motion when the Chinese witch’s eyes lock with Hermione’s. The hurt and confusion suddenly focus to fury, and those usually wide, bright eyes narrow to slits as her pretty features twist into a sneer.</p><p class="western">The bushy-haired Gryffindor is stunned at the ferocity of Cho’s intense glare, but the moment passes as the Ravenclaw continues to turn and then darts to the door. Her friend Marietta quietly leads her through the door and out of the room. Ron takes a look back at them, gives a little wave, and leaves as well.</p><p class="western">They are the last to leave, and Hermione’s clashing thoughts don’t allow her to notice when the Room subtly changes. The door fades into a solid wall, the lighting dims slightly and the training equipment simply disappears.</p><p class="western">“Hey Hermione, I uh… I have a question for you, if you’re not in a hurry?”</p><p class="western">Mind whirring at Cho’s actions and Harry’s words, she ruthlessly restrains her analysis of what had just happened and takes a deep, cleansing breath. Hermione absently puts the already repaired volume onto the shelf and takes another quick breath, this one to focus. She’ll have to puzzle out the bizarre events of these last few moments later.</p><p class="western">She beams a smile at him, her elation at the not-kiss making her a bit giddy. “What do you need, Harry?”</p><p class="western">“It’s about, well...” he trails off as he is wont to do sometimes.</p><p class="western">Hermione finds that he is closer than she had realized and she sees the pensive look on his face. The way he stares into the distance that tells her that he is deep in thought.</p><p class="western">The witch lets her gaze sweep over her best friend’s nicely displayed form. The work-out clothes that they wear during the D.A. meetings really showed off his lean, muscular frame. She takes the time to appreciate this while she knows he’ll be too busy forming his words to notice. She can’t help her admiration, or her light blush, as she enjoys the view.</p><p class="western">It isn’t as though she has many opportunities like this – him in form-fitting clothes and nobody else around to judge her for staring – so she doesn’t feel <em>too</em> guilty about indulging. It isn’t as if she has a chance with him, having been in the ‘friend-zone’ for years now. She not-so-idly wonders who the lucky witch is that Harry has turned down Cho Chang for? ‘ <em>Has Ginny’s dating </em> <em>Michael Corner already caught Harry’s notice?</em>’</p><p class="western">Her attention is brought back to his face before he can catch her checking him out. He makes that decisive ‘heh’ that he probably doesn’t even realize that he makes when he finishes organizing his thoughts.</p><p class="western">“I know that you’ve researched the theory behind how both our Patronus and our Animagus forms are chosen. Could you please summarize what you’ve learned for me?”</p><p class="western">“Of course, Harry. Now, you are well aware of the history of the totem-animal throughout all magical societies...”</p><p class="western">Hermione does, of course, know a fair bit about these subjects, and she relishes the opportunity to share the nuances of how two such amazing branches of magic intertwine and how they differ. She is comparing the deeper aspects of the totem-animal natures of both magics when she first notices that he is staring.</p><p class="western">While she was not unused to being stared at while she waxed on about a subject, she has become quite adept at ignoring the various looks that her peers (and Professor Snape) usually leveled her way. Boredom, disbelief, the rolling of eyes, and undisguised frustration were the most commonplace.</p><p class="western">These looks were often accompanied by derisive snorts, exaggerated yawns and a whole gamut of childish insults, usually whispered, but still loud enough to be heard... and the inevitable accompanying laughter.</p><p class="western">But Harry never did any of those things. Well, ok, he would sometimes roll his eyes, but always with a smile, and he would often cut to the central question that stopped her from getting lost in the subject matter.</p><p class="western">She really appreciated that about him. That he not only didn’t mock her but that he somehow knew when to interrupt her stream of consciousness without making her feel… well, like a know-it-all on a rant.</p><p class="western">The thing is, he is not doing that now. He isn't interrupting, or guiding her with gentle questions, or even giving that silly smirk to tell her to wrap things up.</p><p class="western">He is just staring, and the look in Harry Potter’s deep green eyes makes Hermione stumble to a stop mid-sentence for maybe the first time in her life.</p><p class="western">“What?” She whisper-shouts, confused, and quite alarmed at how her tummy squirms under his gaze.</p><p class="western">“Hmm?” He responds... just that, a drawn-out ‘hum’. And he is still staring.</p><p class="western">“Erm.” She eloquently replies. She blinks. She blinks again, slower this time. ‘<em>I seem to be blinking a lot today.</em>’ flashes through her mind and is dismissed. Finally, she breaks free of his gaze and gathers her wits with an inhale ‘<em>Center Yourself’ </em>exhale. Glancing again to his face, she finds that he is smiling that wonderful, crooked little grin that barely quirks his lips.</p><p class="western">
  <em>'God, he’s gorgeous...'</em>
</p><p class="western">“I mean.” She stammers, wondering briefly if she had voiced that last thought. She knows that her cheeks are aflame and she ducks her head reflexively. ‘<em>By all that is Holy – magical and mundane – get a hold of yourself Hermione!’</em> She fairly screams at her own churning thoughts.</p><p class="western">More calming, centering breaths.</p><p class="western">She hazards a quick peek through her bangs to find that his quirky smile is gone. His eyes are still intense, but now there is concern in place of that all-consuming stare. She knows him too well, knows that the only way to avoid his over-protective nature is to ignore it entirely.</p><p class="western">“Sorry, just got distracted, unrelated thought, it happens.” She impresses herself with how put-together that actually sounded. Suppressing a nervous giggle, she launches back into the subject matter with renewed determination and dedication. She also turns a bit, so as not to be looking towards his face...</p><p class="western">For a while she is back on track, focusing on the details, drawing upon the facts, listing out the clear differences, the fascinating correlations, and those murky, in-between suppositions.</p><p class="western">He hasn’t made his usual ‘keep going noises’ for a few moments, so she chances another glance and finds that Harry has that ‘furrowed brow’ look. He has a question; she knows all of his ‘looks’, so she pauses, cocks her head slightly, and worries her lip while she waits.</p><p class="western">She realizes that he has narrowed his eyes, staring and he quickly looks away from her mouth when she quirks an eyebrow. ‘<em>What </em><em>wa</em><em>s </em>that <em>about?’</em></p><p class="western">He is a bit rushed, but his question is concise and to the point. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, the research is fairly inconclusive on a witch or wizard influencing their Patronus form once it is established?”</p><p class="western">She forces herself to concentrate on his words because his contemplative look turns her on like…</p><p class="western">“Ahem, yes. There’s really not that much information on the Patronus charm, specific to the forms thereof, however, the opposite is true of the Animagus transformation…” and she is almost giddy when she dives into that rich subject matter.</p><p class="western">Her attention is wholly consumed by the nuances of personality traits of predator versus prey and she hasn't thought of anything but the topic for quite a while when she realizes that she has covered well beyond what he had been asked for in a ‘summary’.</p><p class="western">Hermione considers the possibility that he might want to learn more versus the likelihood that she has answered his query but he hasn’t chosen to let her know. Nothing else for it, she chances a look at his face, to gauge his interest.</p><p class="western">Oh... he is interested alright.</p><p class="western">He is back to staring, and even she could not miss the hunger in his eyes.</p><p class="western">She finds herself staring back, as her mind turns its full attention to the intensity of his gaze.</p><p class="western">“You are incredible.” He barely whispers the words, but she finds once again that he is closer than she remembered and so hears him quite clearly.</p><p class="western">His words hang there, a proclamation without borders or definition. She has no idea what to do with this information. With his proximity. His intensity.</p><p class="western">He continues before she can marshall any coherent response. “I have no idea why I’ve never told you this before, but you are not just a font of facts, you are a passionate witch who makes learning a truly wonderful experience.”</p><p class="western">Another proclamation, this one sounds, dare she hope... romantic?</p><p class="western">"Oh..." She blushes to her toes. But then her practical side analyzes his words. He is stating facts, not asking her for a date. ‘<em>It would be foolish of me to assume </em> <em>that </em> <em>he has suddenly noticed me,</em> ’ she decides. ‘ <em>A</em> <em>fter all, whoever he is interested in, she is pretty enough that he turned down Cho Chang.</em>’ While she is satisfied with her reasoning, Hermione cannot help but feel disappointed with her logical conclusion.</p><p class="western">Watching the happy light fade from her eyes, Harry realizes that she is overthinking things and knows that he has to get them back on track before she jumps to the wrong conclusion. Lord knows she can be ridiculously hard-headed once she makes up her mind!</p><p class="western">"So, you told me how a form is selected for each type of magic, and that, while they are often related, that’s not always the case.” He pauses, lets her confirm his statement, and also sets her up for the big question. “Did you know that their form can be changed to match the heart of the caster?"</p><p class="western">"What?" Hermione is flummoxed. She knows that magic can be esoteric to the point that it hurts her logical minded view of the world (except Arithmancy, which was so reassuringly, logically exacting). However, the idea that something so intrinsic to a magical person as their Patronus or Animagus form could be altered by the will of the witch or wizard... "I've never read anything like that, are you sure?"</p><p class="western">Harry allows a small smile to lift his lips, just a little one, he knows how fragile his lovely friend's ego is when her precious books are questioned.</p><p class="western">“Yeah, Sirius said that my dad’s Patronus was originally a lion, but when he found out that Mum’s was a doe, his changed to a stag.” He had no other reference materials, no sources to cite or ancient texts to point to.</p><p class="western">Thankfully, he doesn't need book learning to make his point… he hopes, because it is now or never, he won’t put this off for another day… again. "You told me that you were close to finishing your form last year." He states, with a knowing smirk.</p><p class="western">She wonders about that smirk. It was his 'I know something you don't know' smirk. Yet, for all the people that mocked her on those rare times that she was mistaken or misinformed, she knew that Harry wasn't that way. He almost never made her feel bad, even when she messed up.</p><p class="western">They had come a long way since the 'Firebolt Incident'. The events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament may have led to the return of the Dark... of Voldemort... but it had also brought them closer than ever to one another. She would never forget when he protested that Viktor had the wrong hostage, the implications making her heart soar... but then the year had ended in disaster, again.</p><p class="western">The young witch had felt horrible about lamenting the lost opportunity to explore their feelings, but they were all swept away in the return of the man who had murdered his parents... and so many others.</p><p class="western">Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment as she realizes that she had gotten lost in her thoughts, again. Looking up through her thick, curly bangs, she sees that gentle smile that makes her heart flutter. <em>'Oh, crap, not now, not now, Not Now!' </em>she admonishes herself urgently.</p><p class="western">She had mostly sealed away her open attraction for her best friend, partly out of self-defense and partly because she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable and ruin their friendship.</p><p class="western">Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hermione looks up and meets his now confident grin with a smile of her own. Their unspoken communication gently tells her that he is patiently awaiting her and isn't going to laugh at her. Her answering smile lets him know that she appreciates his patience and that she is ready to continue.</p><p class="western">Years of developing their long, knowing looks had convinced everyone that knew them that they were secretly dating. It was one of those things that 'everyone knows'. Everyone but them, of course.</p><p class="western">Finally, after a raised eyebrow telling him, 'Ok, get on with it', Harry chuckles and blows out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.</p><p class="western">‘<em>Thi</em><em>s is the big moment</em>’, he hopes.</p><p class="western">“You remember when Sirius taught us about seeking our Animagus form using the potion and meditation?”</p><p class="western">Her quick nod belies the open interest on her face. He always loved the way her eyes sparkled when she is focused. “He told us about our mindscape, and, once we had learned the meditation, we took the potion to see what forms might approach us. I was most attuned to a viper and a stag, though a young grey wolf also stayed close to me. You were wavering between a Kneazle and a fox.”</p><p class="western">Smiling at the memories, she gives another quick nod, “I mastered my form late last year.” She finally admits, a bit bashfully, yet very relieved at sharing with him.</p><p class="western">Harry immediately notices that she has once again begun to gnaw gently on her bottom lip, a sign of either nerves, distraction, or embarrassment. Regardless of the cause, it is captivating and snags his attention faster than a snitch. Harry longs to reach up… He blinks quickly and looks from her lips to her eyes finding curiosity and, amusement?</p><p class="western">Hermione’s heart quickens as she watches Harry’s gorgeous green eyes dilate when he stares at her lips. ‘<em>He couldn’t be… interested in me, could he?’ </em>She is saved from going down that path by his heartfelt praise.</p><p class="western">“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you! But I know your form, you’re a fox...”</p><p class="western">Hermione stares at him incredulously before she ducks her head again, hiding her radiant blush and disbelieving smile beneath the curtain of her bushy curls.</p><p class="western">‘<em>Oh, crap!’ </em>He all but gasps at her reaction to his unintentional compliment, no matter how much he thought it true. The blushing smile that lit up her lovely features causes a train-wreck in his thought process, but then she hides in obvious embarrassment.</p><p class="western">“I mean, you’re really pretty, but, I meant, uhh…” ‘<em>Should I just kiss her?’ </em>His mind reels, ‘<em>No, no… Focus!’ </em>he commands himself. Forcing a laugh, “Oh goodness, I’m pants at this.”</p><p class="western">This brings her head up, her blush still flushing her features, however, her gaze sharpens from embarrassed to somehow both inquisitive and accusing at once. ‘<em>You’ve never had any trouble asking questions before, what’s different?</em>’</p><p class="western">He knows exactly what she isn’t asking out loud. “I just meant, I’m usually better at explaining when I can show, but… oh, ok, just, remember what I said.”</p><p class="western">Her eyebrow quirks, the question clear: ‘<em>which </em><em>specific</em> thing you said <em>is that?’</em>.</p><p class="western">He avoids the question and hopes his form answers… well, everything.</p><p class="western">A shimmer of magic surrounds Harry Potter as he drops to his hands and knees on the floor of the Room of Requirement. His form doesn’t expand to the tall, majestic stag nor does it continue to shrink to the equally likely, but much smaller viper, but settles to around half his original size.</p><p class="western">The first thing that Hermione notice is the tail, which is forked at the middle, indicating that Harry has transformed into a Crup. Except he doesn’t look anything like the wizarding equivalent of “man’s best friend” that they had studied with Hagrid.</p><p class="western">He is much more slender than the stocky, terrier-like magical beasts. More obviously though, his coloration isn’t right <em>at all</em>. Instead of the standard Crups’ mostly white with reddish-brown mottling, Harry is a solid dark brown that is almost black. The only exceptions are the reddish-brown tips of his feet, tails, and pointed-ears… and the zig-zag of a reddish-brown lightning-bolt offset on his forehead. He looks much more like… well, he looks like a large, chocolate-furred fox. Even his breed-identifying split-tail is bushy.</p><p class="western">Hermione blinks. Hermione processes.</p><p class="western">Harry’s fox-Crup barks. His nervousness is clear to her in that bark, and her Animagus-enhanced hearing picks up on the sub-vocalized whine of anxiousness that he is making, probably unconsciously.</p><p class="western">It is his anxiousness that pushes her out of analysis mode. She hears Harry in distress and the young woman does something completely out of character. Hermione acts without thinking.</p><p class="western">Her form blurs as she drops to her hands and knees. She is already moving towards Harry as her fox-form settles and before she can consider her actions, she has bowled into him and begins to yip and bark playfully.</p><p class="western">Like the two Animagus, the Room has begun changing as soon as they have. The walls blur and fade to a surrounding of sun-lit trees. The floor becomes dirt, uneven and littered with twigs, and interrupted with roots from the trees which loom over them. They are in a light, airy forest, and various sounds of nature wash over the playful canines.</p><p class="western">Had Hermione looked around, she would have recognized this forest right away. However, neither of them seems to take note of the amazing magical forest that literally springs up around them. Both of them roll to their feet and bark happily at one another.</p><p class="western">Hermione revels in the release that she feels as a fox. Cinnamon is jubilant, there is a freedom that she had never realized she needed until she found her fox. It had taken many months of practice, but she has learned to trust her feelings, her instincts as Cinnamon. This finally allows her to completely relax and let go. She doesn’t worry about books or studies, only relying upon her wonderful enhanced senses in this form.</p><p class="western">Harry’s dark-brown Crup is obviously just as excited as Cinnamon, who playfully lunges at her larger friend. He nimbly leaps backward and then darts around her, his fluffy tail slapping playfully at her own as he takes off at a dead run into the surrounding trees.</p><p class="western">Her sharp, predatory eyes watch the light dancing off the leaves and twigs thrown into the air in Harry’s wake and she turns and bounds after him.</p><p class="western">They play a joyful game of tag, uncaring of who is ‘it’, simply basking in the pleasure of the chase. The sounds of him suddenly slowing and turning ahead immediately raises warning signals in Cinnamon’s animal mind.</p><p class="western">‘<em>He’s trying to hide in ambush!’</em> Quickly made instinctual sense and she adjusts her own stride to a stealthy approach without conscious thought.</p><p class="western">Her breathing comes in short, sharp pants and it takes a few moments to allow her heart-rate to settle, though that doesn’t take very long. She is in the best shape of her life, the hours she spends running as Cinnamon somehow keep her witches' body trim and she feels healthier than she can remember.</p><p class="western">Finally, she hears him moving again, her sharp ears pick out the slightest rustling off of the breeze and constructs a ‘hunting picture’ in her mind. Harry is trying to flank her by shuffling through the underbrush on his belly, the silly mutt!</p><p class="western">The air carries more information than just sound though; for it is in Cinnamon's incredible sense of scent that Hermione has come to revel in an experience completely outside anything her human form can process. She is hyper-aware of the rich loam of the forest floor, the sharp tang of the pine needles, and various prey through their distinct spoor.</p><p class="western">She breathes in the intense symphony of flowers, fauna, and even the underlying hints of magic… and of course, she scents Harry.</p><p class="western">Cinnamon comes to a complete stop once Harry’s scent reaches her, as a deluge of connections suddenly snaps into focus. Years of scent associations form one overriding truth in her animal’s instinct-driven mind.</p><p class="western">Cinnamon has found her mate.</p><p class="western">Hermione tries to think clearly, but it takes her highly analytical mind only moments to review all of the subtle hints and mild, lingering aromas she has been taking in as a human. Those scent-memories now suddenly blossom into a riot of clear signals and vividly clear facts.</p><p class="western">The logical, thoughtful witch reels at a truth that she had only dreamed of for years, and yet it takes her animal instincts only moments to convince her of.</p><p class="western">She loves Harry Potter. She loves him, and in that deep place that knows without logic or evidence, she <em>intrinsically knows</em> that he loves her as well.</p><p class="western">Harry’s Crup cautiously approaches the beautiful reddish-brown fox that has gone stock-still. He has only been practicing his Crup form for a few weeks, but he’s already been out in the forest with Hagrid twice and has honed his danger sense enough to know that no threat has somehow broken through his clear instructions to the Room.</p><p class="western">Still, he feels the need for caution, so he chuffs quietly at the girl inside that lovely auburn fur. It is as he inhales from his animalistic query that her scent hits him.</p><p class="western">A whining growl of need escapes from his throat before he has fully processed what is going on. All his plans and hopes seem to rush out of his mind as his canine senses all carry one truth: He has found his mate!</p><p class="western">Hermione’s head turns toward him and their eyes meet.</p><p class="western">Joy blooms in their minds as each of them confirms the truth in the other’s subtle, animal cues. Cues that their human selves have ignored for way too long.</p><p class="western">As one the young couple shift, bodies shooting upwards, reaching hands together even as they are shedding fur and claws. They share their first kiss in the forest of Harry’s imagination and Hermione’s dreams.</p><p class="western">They spend the next few hours in a giddy mix of gentle and intense kisses, with a few words to reassure one another that this is real, though deep down, they both know. It is instinctual after all.</p><p class="western"><br/>* * *</p><p class="western">Epilogue</p><p class="western">
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</p><p class="western">The young couple cuddle on a loveseat before a crackling fire provided by the Room, sharing warmth and sipping hot chocolates spiced with cinnamon.</p><p class="western">“Harry?”</p><p class="western">“mmhmm” the young man answers, his fingers lightly playing with the hairs at the back of her neck.</p><p class="western">Releasing a happy sigh, Hermione turns to look up as her head rests on his shoulder. “I call my fox ‘Cinnamon’, what do you call your Crup?”</p><p class="western">"Cinnamon," Harry murmurs, as though weighing the name as he stares off in thought. "Heh," he pauses with a quick grin, "it's perfect."</p><p class="western">Carefully disentangling from their cuddle, Harry takes her empty cup, and sets it down with his own. Settling back against the opposite arm of the small couch, he turns to face his girlfriend, then takes her hand in his just to hold.</p><p class="western">They've only been 'dating' for a week now, and she reflects upon how his hunger for contact is a wonderful contrast to the years of flinching and tensing up he'd shown whenever he was touched in the past.</p><p class="western">He meets her eyes with that crooked smile that makes her heart melt and race at the same time. “Remember how Sirius said we should keep returning to our mindscape, even after we attained a form?”</p><p class="western">Understanding blooms in her wide eyes and she nods quickly, her enthusiasm making his heartache with love.</p><p class="western">“My first form was a viper that was deep green. I named him Jade. By then you’d talked about your two possible forms and I knew at once you were – and are – a fox!” He gives her a silly grin and they share a sweet kiss at their first romantic ‘in-joke’.</p><p class="western">“Once I mastered Jade, I returned to my clearing, but I was disappointed that the Stag wasn’t there, and surprised that the wolf was gone as well… but then he came running at me, bouncing around like a puppy, my Crup.”</p><p class="western">Hermione nods happily. Their forms both have boundless energy, which made running around together a thoroughly joyous and uninhibited release from the pressures of ‘real-life’.</p><p class="western">She tilts her head to the side, and purposefully takes her bottom lip in between her teeth. She can’t hold the giggle when he opens and closes his mouth like a fish, and her full laughter blooms when his narrowed eyes show that he has realized her purposeful distraction.</p><p class="western">He lunges across the small space and the young couple lose themselves in mock wrestling for a few moments before settling down, Harry now leaning back with Hermione sitting between his legs.</p><p class="western">Several kisses later Hermione settles back against her mate’s chest. “So… what’s his name?” She finally gives in and asks, with a bemused huff.</p><p class="western">“Oh, yeah!” He laughs. “Sorry, you’re the most distracting witch on the planet. I’ll have to work extra hard at Occlumency just to be able to sit next to you in class.”</p><p class="western">She groans at his corny, yet wonderfully sincere lament. “His name, Harry?”</p><p class="western">Hermione feels him tense a little behind her, she hopes it isn’t ‘fido’ or… ‘<em>Oh, God,’</em> she cringes, ‘<em>I hope he didn’t name him "Snuffles"?’</em></p><p class="western">“I, uhm, I was hoping you would help me name him.” He expels in a quick breath, “I love Cinnamon, it fits so beautifully, and I love the taste of it on your lips, so it works on many different levels.”</p><p class="western">“But...” She prompts.</p><p class="western">“Yeah, I uh, well, I discarded ‘Snuffles’,” he says with a snort which she joins in as they share an amused chuckle.</p><p class="western">“And, well, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted you to… well, to recognize him, and well, what he means, why he…” He releases a frustrated little growl.</p><p class="western">“Why him, and not a Stag or a Wolf, but instead a canine very similar to my own form?”</p><p class="western">“Yeah!” He blurts, with a whoosh of breath. “Thank you. I just, somehow I know you’ll name him something that fits, like Cinnamon fits you.”</p><p class="western">Hermione goes quiet for a little while, truly moved by his words... and then suddenly lets out the most unladylike snort he’d ever heard from her. She immediately turns and gently touches his face.</p><p class="western">“Sorry!” She exclaims urgently, staring into his eyes. “I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just that all of these candy-bars streamed into my head, all sorts of chocolate flavors and brands and some of the stupid things that Honeydukes makes and then what the twins have come up with and...”</p><p class="western">Harry was laughing hard by the time she trails off, seeing his mirth. “So, I’m a candy bar?”</p><p class="western">“Definitely something like that, but I can’t decide on what kind. It has to be the best kind, you know.” She says with an earnestness that warms his heart and lets him settle in to wait.</p><p class="western">She thinks a bit more, considering the deep brown of his coat in her minds-eye.</p><p class="western">“You aren’t just any brand," she muses, still intensely serious, her eyes unfocused in concentration. "You are pure and good and you make everything better." She pauses, her deep brown eyes wide for a moment, then focuses on her boyfriends glittering green orbs. "You are Chocolate!”</p><p class="western">“Chocolate?” Harry cocks his head to the side with a bemused grin, but his grin fades when she raises a hopeful eyebrow, biting gently on her lower lip as she awaits his opinion. Finally, considering her own chocolate-brown eyes, Harry smiles, wide and happy, and nods his head.</p><p class="western">The pair settle back again, giggling as they both release a contented hum at the same time.</p><p class="western">“Chocolate and Cinnamon,” He grins, nodding at the mugs in front of them. “It's perfect.”</p>
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